


Full Sails

by DEx Hooker (FangBanger)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangBanger/pseuds/DEx%20Hooker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian's point of view of my story Ruffled Feathers; when a dwarf gives a pirate a cell phone and teaches him how to text, after three long nights of being separated from his saviour, what's a truly hot blooded man to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Sails

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Full Sails  
> Author: Rougie et al.  
> Fandom: Once Upon a Time  
> Characters: Killian/Emma  
> Rating: M  
> Words: 4900  
> Spoilers: Not a one.  
> Summary: Killian's point of view of my story Ruffled Feathers; when a dwarf gives a pirate a cell phone and teaches him how to text, after three long nights of being separated from his saviour, what's a truly hot blooded man to do?  
> Disclaimer: OuaT does not belong to me in any way shape or form. If it did, I would have far too much fun playing with the pirate for it to ever be broadcast on television. Fifty Shades of Killian Jones? Yes please.  
> A/N: This got way out of hand (no pun intended, honestly!). I have far, far too much fun writing from the male point of view, but there is something so utterly hot about a guy palming himself to thoughts of his woman that I just can't help myself. So, five thousand words and four hours later... Killian's point of view of his and Emma's sexting experience originally seen in Ruffled Feathers; it's not required you read that fic first as this stands alone well enough, but they are companion pieces to each other and together give the full picture (again, no pun intended!). Enjoy, and let me know what you think... your words always keep me going. :)

~~~?~~~

 

 

He pushed through the door to his room at Granny's with an indignant snort. There was not enough liquor available at the Rabbit Hole to see him drunk enough to have dealt with the night he'd been forced to endure. What the bloody hell in his posture could have suggested to the dwarf that he wanted any sort of company, much less the annoying little blackguard's endless conversation about what Killian had to see and do to fully appreciate life in Storybrooke. He wanted to shake the little man after five minutes of conversing with him. He found himself with no need to understand the flashing box of images found in almost every room into which he walked. He had other, far more visceral forms of entertainment beyond this world's celebrities furthering their status with what the dwarf called Talk Shows and Reality Programming. Killian had no use for dvds, cds, mp3s, dvrs, tvs, and on and on and on.

 

The mobile communications device, however, that gave him a moment's pause. Sadly, his momentary spark of interest led the dwarf into several hours of how to use the blasted device for everything from voice communication to electronic letters, to “googling” and picture messaging. Only after enough pints of lager to sink the Jolly herself did the dwarf disclose anything remotely useful to the aggravated pirate. Seduction by distance through word. Oh, yes. That conversation proved very interesting indeed.

 

With a quick and very practised flick of his wrist, Killian tossed his abominably heavy coat into the corner chair by the door, relieving himself of his vest and opening the few remaining buttons on his thin shirt. Another quick flurry of nimble fingers had the ties to his leather pants loosened enough that the pirate gave a soft sigh of welcome relief, leaning back on his too soft bed, atop the entirely too flowery comforter, and picking up the mobile device to see what he actually recalled of the dwarf's ongoing conversation.

 

The small, bright screen lit up offering him options he apparently had tuned out while the dwarf spoke, noticing only two little boxes he recognized. Contacts. Messages. As the dwarf had only given him the phone hours earlier, his messages box was blissfully empty. The contacts box, however, had been pre-programmed with names the pirate welcomed mixed in amongst all seven dwarves and... several nuns? Honestly, what could the little man think of him to think he'd want any contact with the blasted fairy sisters in this realm or the next? He'd never had a moment's luck with fairy or pixie alike, the idea he'd want to willingly communicate with any one of them was laughable. Well, perhaps not Tinkerbell, but there was rough history between them that would always dissuade his finger from selecting her name.

 

Emma Swan, however, now that name brought a slow smile to his lips, his ice blue eyes warming immediately at the thought of her. Princess. Saviour. Sheriff. Lover. His entire life's bloody conquest in one infuriating, defiant, stubborn little body that he hadn't held in his arms for three nights straight. The mere thought of her had his tongue dancing over his lips, wishing desperately he could still gather the taste of her he'd taken as they'd parted hours before, no amount of time spent with her enough to begin to assuage the time spent apart. Time apart that grew frustratingly longer than the brief moments they'd recently been allowed.

 

Decision made, he flicked his thumb across her name in the little contacts box, opening what the dwarf called a message window. For a minute he stared at the white box blankly, wondering how exactly he went about transferring the words from his mind onto the screen, however the moment he touched the new screen, a box with all the letters of the alphabet appeared, making him blink in pleasant surprise.

 

Cursing the use of only one hand, Killian balanced the phone in his long fingers, using his thumb to hit the letters necessary to type out his message.

 

_Hello, love._

 

Thankfully, he easily spotted the little green “send” button that allowed him to whisk the words off into the nether, hopefully appearing momentarily on Emma's own mobile device.

 

He startled as mere seconds later his phone buzzed loudly in his fingers, practically leaping out of his grip and landing face down on the mattress with an overly annoying chime of bells.

 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered quietly, reaching for the device, checking the fragile glass front to see if any damage had been done as it had taken flight.

 

Her name appeared on the screen quickly followed by his own.  **Killian?**  He chuckled quietly, as if anyone else in this doomed little village had the nerve to ever call you love, love.

 

Tongue poking through his teeth, a curse on his lips every way, Killian managed to type out his thoughts in what he hoped was a decent amount of time, considering the novelty of the situation at the very least.

 

_Should I be concerned that there are enough people in Storybrooke that refer to you as "love" that you feel the need to verify my identity?_

 

He chuckled quietly at his own wit before hitting the send button, leaning back against his headboard with his damaged arm acting as a pillow as he clutched the device firmly this time, expecting the buzzing and shaking when she finally responded.

 

**No, but when did you get a cell phone? And learn how to text? And how come I didn't know any of this? You can't blame me for being a little bit surprised here.**

 

Fair enough, love, he thought quietly, carefully considering his words and exactly how much of his evening he wished to drop in her lap.

 

_Well, you see, love, I was enjoying an innocent drink down at the Rabbit Hole earlier this evening..._

 

He wasn't even able to finish constructing the next message before her response came back.

 

**Innocent?**

 

He laughed out loud, shaking his head at the image that suddenly filled his mind of her sitting in the darkness, staring at her screen, one eyebrow lifted in accusing disbelief. Silly, Emma. A pirate's got to have some secrets left that a simple pair of sea green eyes can't suss out of his soul before he's had a chance to bury them away.

 

Humour to deflect had been his motto for three centuries, a motto that had not yet failed him nor could he see it doing so in the near future.

 

_Yes, love, innocent. Not a bawdy maid in sight but for the young she-wolf. And honestly, Swan? Though I don't mind a lady taking a bite out of me at times, I'm not one for a girl who would make of me her entire meal. I've too many appendages I've grown rather fond of in my centuries of life to take a risk quite so extreme._

 

“Sorry, lass, you'll have to wait between messages now. I'll not be taking the chance of you interrupting yet again so I'll be finishing each thought as we progress from here forward,” he quietly muttered to the empty room, grinning as he could imagine her softly snorting at his tongue in cheek reply.

 

**Fine, you were having an innocent drink. Somehow that fails to explain how you ended up with a cell phone and texting lessons.**

 

“Ah, there's my demanding law bringer,” he smirked, typing more quickly now as he grew accustomed to the method of communication.

 

_It would appear that one of the dwarves has a small addiction to technology. He was, as he said, upgrading his cellular device earlier in the week and thought perhaps I could use the one for which he had no further use._

_Honestly, Swan, I had no say in the matter, he appeared at my table with this dreadful device and continued spewing lessons in use at me until I managed to ply him with enough liquor that the remaining dwarves were forced to take him home. It was a rather horrifying bonding experience the likes of which I care not to repeat._

  
  


Alone where no one could begin to see him, Killian pouted to himself. He'd only wished to pass a few hours with the comfort of a few glasses of rum, watching the townsfolk mill around him; instead, his night had been rudely pushed off course by the over eager dwarf. Fearing that people would see him socializing with the dwarves and assume all would be welcome at his table, he'd been forced to leave the bar early, coming home with very little rum in his stomach, too many hours until he'd have the pleasure of Emma's company, and a bloody cellular device that was only just now beginning to prove its value. A bloody poor waste of a regrettably free evening.

  
  


**It serves you right for going for a drink while I'm stuck on patrol, Killian. You should have taken me up on my option to keep me company tonight.**

  
  


He stared at her message in silent disdain. Bloody woman was mocking him because a night spent patrolling the town line rather than wrapped in Granny's regrettable choice of floral print bedding with her soundly held beneath him had not sounded at all appealing to him hours earlier.

  
  


_Truly, love? You mock my rather unpleasant evening with reminders of what could have been?_

  
  


**Would you rather I sent you a picture message of me laughing at you? Because I'm not lying when I say that happened.**

  
  


Killian chuckled quietly; she had no way of realizing one of the dwarf's most comprehensive lessons of the night involved picture messaging. Apparently Happy quite enjoyed the concept of “selfies” and spent a detailed amount of time ensuring Killian was versed in the abhorred act.

  
  


_Once again, I can only imagine what could be a picture message, however I believe I have a general understanding given the amount of time I was forced to spend with the over enthusiastic dwarf this evening. I have to say, you cut me deeply, Swan. I hope you're happy all alone in your patrol vessel, tonight, laughing at your poor abused pirate as he struggles to learn your world._

  
  


“We'll revisit picture messaging later in the night, Swan, you can bet on that,” he grinned at the screen.

  
  


**If you're looking to make me apologize, Hook, you'll be waiting until dawn.**

  
  


“Truly, love, you've yet to realize a pirate waits for nothing and no one?” His tongue poked through his teeth as his eyes began to sparkle. “Take the bait, love,” he whispered with barely muted excitement as he pressed send.

  
  


_And if I don't want to wait until dawn?_

  
  


**?**

 

“Got you now, Swan,” he grinned triumphantly, his thumb immediately flying to type out his response.

 

__Not to seem presumptuous, love, but what attire have you chosen for your night alone?_ _

 

According to the dwarf, inquiring upon one's current garments was the single most important opening line to seductive communication. Thought it seemed trite for him to ask, as he doubted she'd changed between their meal together and her shift on patrol, he wouldn't break the tradition as it had been explained.

 

****... did you seriously just ask me what I'm wearing?** **

 

His grin widened as he responded to her just as quickly; he had no doubt he'd meet some level of resistance from the Saviour, but he knew his woman well. Before the night was over, she'd be playing along with eager reluctance.

 

_I'm a man with a good imagination, lass, now give a poor pirate some details to fuel his evening alone at this god forsaken dwelling you have the nerve to call an inn._

  
  


**Killian, you know damn well what I'm wearing. We had lunch together twelve hours ago!**

  
  


_Twelve hours too long, Swan, now stop being difficult and play along._

  
  


**Ugh, ffs, Hook... Jeans, a blue shirt, my leather jacket, and just so you're well aware, my gun.**

  
  


Silly, sweet girl thinking her weapon of choice would deter him from his goal. If nothing else, the mere mention of it had his dick shifting in his pants, the image of her in that silken blue blouse and the sinfully tight reams of denim she had the nerve to call pants doing nothing to calm the wave of heat that washed over him.

  
  


_Mmm, your modern attire holds an appeal you can hardly begin to understand, love... and if I asked you to remove your jacket for the time being?_

 

“No word of a lie, Swan,” he grinned wickedly, reaching down to adjust his pants, grateful he'd thought to loosen the ties before opening communication.

 

 

**Seriously?! You're sexting me?!**

  
  


Ah, yes, the word the dwarf had spoken with an unfortunate volume that brought the eyes of the she-wolf upon them. He had no doubt his princess would hear of the conversation in the morning when she went to retrieve her required dose of caffeine.

  
  


_I'm unaware of this term, sexting, Swan.. I've merely asked you to make yourself more comfortable for our inevitably long conversation. Now, have you removed the jacket, love? Or do I have to find you and do so myself?_

  
  


**Hook... Killian. I'm working. I'm not doing this.**

  
  


_Emma love, I'm a pirate. What do I care about work? Take the bloody jacket off, lass, or I'll keep to my promise and remove the thing for you before you've a chance to protest. Unless you'd care to protest, love. I always did love a woman who could put up a good fight._

  
  


He knew she'd read the message, hearing him speak the words in her mind; his voice would be a low, guttural sound, a near growl as he threatened her in jest, and she'd not have a hope in hell of denying him what he wanted. A soft groan passed his lips as he saw her message come in, exactly as he expected but even expectation wasn't enough to stop the swell of his cock, now pressing up painfully tight against already loosened laces. If he loosened them any further he'd be in danger of freeing himself entirely, a goal he'd not set until much later in the evening.

  
  


**Jesus! Fine. It's off. Are you happy now?**

  
  


“Not hardly, lass, but soon enough.”

  
  


_Oh immeasurably, love. Now how about the shirt you've got on? Does it have buttons? Or will I have to shred the delicate fabric to get to the treasures you've hidden within?_

  
  


**I am not taking off my shirt! Hook, I'm on patrol! Anyone could drive by at any time!**

  
  


_Be reasonable, love. No one from town ever bothers travelling to the line, and the odds of this being the night we hear word from the lost travellers are well in our favour. Now take off your shirt, Swan, before I'm forced to cut it from your body._

  
  


Another threat made in the voice he knew would have her dripping in seconds, her core hot and ready for him before he'd even laid a finger to her flesh. A woman more suited to his nature, both dark and light, he'd never found before and doubted he ever would again. She understood him on a level incomprehensible to anyone else, living or dead. They understood each other, which is how he knew that blouse would fall from her shoulders and her breasts would be freed to the dark night.

  
  


What corset would she wear beneath?

  
  


A sweet, soft sound of pain dripped from his lips as all the various lingerie he'd seen cover her soft flesh came unbidden to mind, and his need for her grew to an unmanageable level. Dropping the phone for a moment, he allowed himself a brief respite, curling his fingers around his aching flesh and squeezing with a well practised grip, simultaneously granting himself a quick shot of pleasure as well as calming his throbbing appendage before he truly put the cart before the horse on their evening.

  
  


Only when he felt he had himself well and truly back in control did he pick up the device, realizing it had been long minutes since she'd last responded.

 

__I'll take your silence as acquiescence, love. Perhaps I'll insist upon one of your "picture messages" to prove you've taken to your task honestly._ _

 

 

He'd never been one to beg for a thing in his life, but the moment he pressed send he found himself considering the option. He'd grown hard enough with just the thought of what his words could be doing to her, how much harder would a photograph of exactly that test his restraint?

 

His fingers shook as the text tone sounded and he eagerly opened the picture attachment, very nearly dropping the device once again with shock. Bloody. Buggering. Hellfire. Her nipples were hard and pressed out against the sinfully thin material of her bra, their dark contrast unable to be hidden as the flash on her camera brightened every shadow. That particular shade of blue was bloody perfection against her skin, crying to him of seas yet to be travelled, mountains yet to be climbed, and between them a bloody valley of insurmountable lushness that would forever be his home. His cock swelled to full mast instantly, he could literally feel the blood pooling out of his brain and forcing his flesh harder, thicker, longer than he could ever recall. His loosened pants did nothing to help the situation, the leather becoming distinctly uncomfortable as large drops of precum dampened the material against his skin. She would be the death of him, he understood that now.

 

_Bloody hell, love. Were you expecting company tonight to have chosen such a mouth watering scrap of lace?_

  
  


**I did ask you to keep me company, pirate. It's not my fault if drinking with a dwarf seemed more important to you at the time.**

 

He hated her passionately and loved her dearly all in a single second of time, knowing it would last through eternity.

 

 

_Do you enjoy teasing me, Swan?_

 

 

**No more so than you do me, Hook.**

 

 

He stared at the picture that came through for long moments, his jaw falling progressively further open as his eyes tracked the bare flesh she presented him, her fingers dragging his gaze lower and lower until the picture ended. For a moment he was left considering shaking the blasted device. The photograph started with her full breasts which he'd love nothing more than to have his face buried between at that particular moment, and ended with her fingertips just barely brushing the waistline of her bloody jeans. Dear ever loving deity of any possible religion, he would sell his bloody soul for that picture to have continued.

 

 

__Bloody minx! Don't think I don't know where those fingers are heading, so tell me, what are they going to find? Will they merely find a burning heat that only my words can help satisfy? Or are you already a sopping mess for me, love? Will your fingers come away dripping?_ _

 

 

“Don't you lie to me for a single second, love,” he groaned through teeth tightly clenched, pressing the curve of his hook to his straining pants, desperate to ease his discomfort yet unwilling for the game to end.

 

 

****You'd know if you were here, Killian.** **

 

 

Aye, he would know. He'd shred through those jeans without a second's warning, parting her legs and pushing his face between her thighs, drinking from her before she had a chance to say so much as a single word. Her taste was so familiar to him that his memory became visceral, his mouth watering as he could practically feel her gliding over his tongue. She'd be so bloody hot. So bloody sweet. She'd flow down his throat in rivers as he showed no mercy, thumb on her swollen, aching clit, tongue buried between her pulsing walls. She would come apart on his face in seconds as surely as he would come apart in her sweet little channel embarrassingly as fast considering how achingly engorged their verbal foreplay had left him.

 

The minx thought she had the upper hand, but no wench would top him from the bottom, at the very least not without his express permission. For the first time that night he sent a silent thought of gratitude towards the bloody annoying dwarf that had stolen away his peace. It took only a few minutes of fumbling before he was able to set up the timed delay on his camera, posing himself carefully, using the long seconds before the photograph took to palm his cock through his leathers, closing his fingers around his flesh, squeezing hard enough that his jaw fell open in pleasure and his eyes closed from the sheer torture of it all. Up and down he stroked his heated length, the leathers preventing him from the full sensation but at the very least it was something, and he took relief in the sharp, shooting sensations that flowed through his blood, stealing away his thoughts save for one: his princess.

 

It was the exact moment her name floated through his mind, the exact moment his heart clenched in his chest, that his cock twitched beneath his fingers in a desperate cry for release, that the flash startled him into opening his eyes, but the picture had already been taken.

 

It was with great satisfaction that he selected the photograph and forwarded it to Emma without a moment's pause. Perhaps not the type of selfie the dwarf had considered when giving him the lessons, but all the same, it had definitely worked out in Killian's favour.

 

__I wish I were there, love, make no mistake. This is what your pictures have done to me, Swan, though your continued silence has left me only able to imagine I've done the same to you._ _

 

His thumb trembled as he typed, misspelled words being forced to correct themselves as he struggled to bring his wayward body back under control while continuing the level of flirtation to which he'd brought them.

 

****Tell me you've used some sort of Enchanted Forest pirate magic, Killian, and you've not had someone else take that picture for you.** **

 

Bloody hell, how could she remain so calm? The photograph should have at the very least brought an undignified moan to her pretty red lips, but her words betrayed nothing.

 

_What's the matter, love? Thinking that perhaps I brought home the she-wolf after all?_

  
  


**Hook...**

 

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He knew better than to bait a jealous female when she considered something hers under threat, but she wouldn't get off quite that easily. No, not easily at all.

 

_This phone has a timed device, Swan. I can set it, walk away, and it takes the photograph all on its own. Now, though I've found your instant jealousy and suspicion rather arousing, I've not yet heard your response to my "picture message". Are you as wet for me, love as I am hard for you?_

  
  


**Yes, alright? Yes, I am so hot I think I'm going to implode. I'm so wet I've probably ruined the upholstery on this seat! I need you so fucking badly and I'm stuck out here for another four hours and right this second, Hook? I kind of hate you for doing this to me!**

 

“Finally, you damned, stubborn, beautiful woman. Was it truly so hard to admit yourself to me? By the gods!”

 

He shook his head in amusement, closing the message application and re-opening his contacts, this time choosing voice communication. She answered quickly, her breath a desperate pant in his ear, her voice broken, wanton and needy, and gods be damned if his cock didn't twitch as if she'd just slid her lips over the head and swallowed him down.

 

"Hearing your voice is not going to help matters, you know."

 

No doubt she was feeling the same agonizing separation that was causing his heart to ache as painfully as his balls. "Problems, Swan?"

 

"Seriously? You do not get to do... this... and then call me and play innocent. If you haven't noticed, I'm a little desperate here, Killian, and I've got no relief in sight."

 

Oh, but I'm free to do what I like, love; you've just not yet accepted that you're in love with a pirate. Still, the hour was growing late and by his calculations, her father would likely be on his way out to relieve her of her shift at any moment. He'd thought to get further in their game that night, but her hesitancy to play had cost them precious time. Next time, however...

 

 

"Put your shirt back on, love; I ran into your father a short while before contacting you and he insists all is well with the young prince. He'll be out to relieve you of your duties within the next half hour, and then perhaps I can relieve you of your other issues moments later."

 

The instant outrage he expected flowed over the line and he had to bite back the bark of laughter that would merely pour fuel on an open flame. "Killian! You knew David was on his way out here and still had me take off my clothing? I mean what the hell?"

 

"When the drunken dwarf explained to me all the various ways one could use such a device, suggestive messages seemed the most appealing way to past a few hours of our evening apart, love. Your father's not set to come to you for a few minutes yet, he had to settle the young prince and your mother and perhaps steal a quick nap before making his way out to the town line. He assured me he would send you a "text message" when he was on his way to inquire as to whether you would care for a cup of coffee from the loft."

  
  


"Still..."

  
  


"Emma, love, you're not truly upset with me, are you?" He would have bat his eye lashes in innocence if he could have, his sugary sweet tone floating on the air between them, knowing she'd see through him in a second.

  
  


"You've left me hot, dripping and aching for release minutes before I have to deal with my father, Killian, how exactly do you think I feel?"

  
  


Believe me, exactly the same as I do, my love. He palmed his heavy cock once more before settling back and closing his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips as he lost himself in her voice.

 

 

"Like you could use a well versed pirate to finish you off the way you deserve?" Don't doubt you deserve it, love, and I shall take great pleasure in providing.

 

 

"Fucking pirate," He bit back another chuckle, hearing the ire fade from her voice as she slowly began to find amusement in their night of mutual arousal. "Oh, look at that, no text and yet my father is here. See me act surprised."

 

 

Bloody hell, he was supposed to inform her of his arrival before just appearing. Bloody lucky thing their evening had run a mite slower than expected.

 

 

“I'll see you soon, Killian,” her soft voice washed over him, filling him with warmth and anticipation of the rest of the night to come.

 

 

"I'll be waiting ever so patiently, love."

  
  


"Just be waiting without your pants, okay?"

  
  


He couldn't control the laughter that escaped his lips, his eyes flying wide open, his jaw lowering in surprise. The wanton little minx had actually found a way to top him. Well, bloody hell.

 

 

His face split in a huge grin as he finally untied the last of his laces, sliding out of the suddenly remarkably uncomfortable leathers and removing his shirt for good measure. He laid himself out on the bed, wrapping his fingers around his long length, hissing and sighing with a deep seeded pleasure as the welcomed friction was finally, finally skin on skin. He rested his damaged arm behind his head, his bright blue eyes trained on the door to his room, his fingers never faltering in their slow, steady strokes, cock once again thickening, lengthening, bloody fucking throbbing achingly in his own grip as he waited for his saviour to arrive.

 

 

He'd learned to navigate rough and stormy seas in his long, seemingly endless life and yet he had a feeling no danger he had ever faced would be enough to prepare him for the storm approaching. A frustrated, dripping, hot and potentially angry princess, goddess, his Emma, ready to take him to places he'd never even dreamed.

 

And he had one hell of a good imagination.

 

 

~~~Fin~~~

  
  



End file.
